Just Tryng To Hold It All Together
by courtneyun
Summary: Rewrite. Dean and Sam are trying to figure out each other again after Sam rejoins the hunt. Sorta AU, Set in season one.
1. The Consequences of Drinking To Much

**Disclaimer:** I, unfortunately, do not own the TV series _Supernatural._ That honor belongs to...somebody else. So there.

**A/N: **This story might sound very familiar to some of you. It's the story I've been working on but have combined and played around with as I'd written myself in a corner. It's still AU and before John died. Please feel free to read and review.

**Chapter One: ****The Consequences of Drinking To Much**

The only concession Dean made to Sam's hangover was to keep the music down to a dull roar. Sam was looking pretty pathetic. His long legs were scrunched up as far as he could get them, wedged between the seat and the dashboard. Somehow he still managed to slump over, his head almost to his knees. Dean glanced over at him and smirked. "So Sammy-"

'It's SAM, say it with me, Sam. S-A-M." interrupted Sam.

"So, S-A-M," Dean started again, "You want to stop somewhere? Maybe get some breakfast? Ooh. Let;s stop at Denny's. The last one we passed had a bacon eggs and grits special for only $3.99!! Mmm, lots of greasy bacon with the runny eggs all mixed up in some buttery-."

"Oh my God, I think I'm gonna puke."

Dean smirked, glancing at Sam from the corner of his eyes. "They also have free coffee refills," he said temptingly.

"Just shoot me." Sam begged, burying his face, which was a slight green color, the rest of the way into his knees.

Dean let out a little laugh, "Does that mean no then?"

Sam's reply was to stick up his middle finger and wave it vaguely in his brothers direction. Dean chuckled, but fell silent afterward, letting his brother be miserable in peace.

After a few minutes Dean took pity on his brother and even turned the music off, getting a muffled "Thanks", from his brother who still had his head on his knees. Dean wondered how he did that without breaking his neck.

They rode in silence for a while longer, only the sound of their breathing and the tires on the asphalt breaking it. Just when Dean thought that Sam must have fallen asleep and was going to turn the music back on, Sam sat straight up, quickly covering his mouth with his hand, the other clutching his stomach.

"Dude, seriously, if you puke in my baby I will end you." Dean growled, while pulling off the side of the road faster then what was probable safe. Thankfully it was a long empty stretch of road so no one saw when Sam lurched the door open, leaned half way out and proceeded to puke his guts out.

Reaching into the backseat, Dean dug around until he pulled out a half empty water bottle. "Here." he said to Sam after he'd finished vomiting and was sitting back up in the seat.

"Thanks man." Sam swished some of the water in his mouth before leaning back over and spitting it out onto the ground. He took a few more deep breathes then guzzled the rest of the water. "Holy shit man," Sam said hoarsely, his throat still sore despite the water. "The next time I have the brilliant idea to drink my problems away, do me a favor and just knock me out, it'd be less painful then this."

Dean just smirked. "Can we continue or do we need to wait and see if there's anything left in your stomach?"

Sam groaned and pushed his lanky hair away from his eyes. "I don't think that there is anyway possible for there to be anything left in my stomach. Let's go."Closing his eyes, he lay his forehead against the window trying to soak up the coldness of it. "I am _never _ drinking again."

Dean couldn't turn down the perfect opening. "So, little brother, Exactly why _did_ I come in and find you drunker then Dad on a two day bender? Hmm?"

Sam sighed and sat up straight, abandoning the comfort of the cold window. He knew this was coming. He also knew there was no use trying to get out of it. Dean may be a self proclaimed hater of chick flicks, but when he thought something was wrong with Sam, he was like a pit-bull with a bone.

"I just felt like drinking, Dean. Guess I got a bit carried away." he said, briefly looking over at his brother.

"A bit carried away?!" said brother asked incredulously. "Are you serious Sam? Because you start singing Whitney Houston after three beers. Don't you think an entire pint of Jack is a bit _more _then just a _bit carried away_." He kept his eyes on the road even though he wanted to stare at his brother, and maybe smack him on the back of the head.

Sam rolled his eyes and then winced at the pain that shot through his head. "Seriously dude, you promised not to mention the Whitney thing anymore and I was freaking _sixteen_ when that happened. As for the drinking, I've seen you imbibe a helluva lot more then that in one night. Besides, I'm over twenty-one. It's even legal now."

"Dude, first off, I will never forget the sight you you standing on the bed singing _I Will Always Love You_. In your boxers no less. You can never escape that. Ever," Dean explained.

Sam just tilted his head against the seat and groaned.

"And secondly," Dean continued, " I can hold my liquor a lot better then you, and my alcohol tolerance is way way way above yours. Lastly, I like to drink Sam. I _enjoy _it. You don't. Most of the time two beers is your limit. You get buzzed off a shot of vodka. Don't sit there and tell me that you just felt like drinking. I want to know why I came from the bar to find you passed out in the middle of the hotel room. You told me that you were tired and was going to bed. Why the lie? Hell, if you wanted to get drunk why didn't you just come with me?"

"I didn't lie," Sam stated, "I did go to bed."

"Yeah, after drinking a pint of Jack," Dean quipped.

"No, before then. I went to bed right after you left to make some cash. I got in bed and went to sleep. I woke up again."

"Obviously," the older man injected.

"Quit interrupting me Dean! Do you wanna know or not? Jesus."Sam barked.

Fine, I'll be quiet. Now start talkin'," Dean said seriously.

"I was tired from that last hunt we did. That frigging spirit threw me into everything but the kitchen sink. Did I mention that I HATE dead tax accountants? Jeez he kept going on and on about the evilness of not paying ones taxes before April 15th. But back to the point, I was feeling a little sore. I drifted off, but every time I turned over something ached. So I got up to get some aspirin, but, by the way, we are out of it. So, being the vigilant person I am, remembered seeing you put the Tylenol in in your duffel in the car yesterday."Sam paused and took a deep breath. "When I looked in your bag it wasn't there." He looked at Dean accusingly.

"What?" Dean questioned taking his eyes off the road to stare at Sam for a moment. "You're not the only one that tax accountant threw around. I took the Tylenol with me. So your saying this is _my_ fault now?"

"Nooo Dean." Sam said impatiently. "I'm trying to tell you how I ended up drunk. Do you think you could let me talk for two minutes without interrupting?"

"Fine, fine," Dean replied waving the hand that wasn't controlling the steering wheel in a vague gesture to continue on with the story.

"So like I was saying _before _you interrupted-"

The chorus to Metallica's _Enter Sandman _blasted through the air as Dean's cellphone rang. Stopping Sam yet again. He slammed back against the seat heaving a long-suffering sigh.

Dean snickered while he fumbled around for his cell phone, "Hey Sammy, You're like that movie. Ya know the one I'm talking about. _Girl Interrupted. It's_ got that blonde chick in it. Get it, cause you're a girl."

"Kiss my-" Sam broke off as Dean finally answered his cell phone.

"Hey Bobby, Whats up?" Dean spoke into the phone.

He listened for a few moments. "No, we just got done with one the day before yesterday. Nasty son of a bitch. Dead tax accountant."

Dean paused listening to Bobby. "We're almost out of Detroit, on Highway 72, heading toward Indiana." He stopped and listened again. "Hell yeah Bobby, you know all you have to do is ask."

He glanced at his brother. "Yeah. Sam's up for it. We can be there today." Pause, Listen. "Friday. OK Bobby Talk to you later."

Dean flipped his cell phone closed and threw it on the seat in between him and Sam. "It seems we have a change in plans. Bobby wants to meet up in South Carolina. Says he's got a hunt that he wouldn't mind some backup on. We'll go on down there and start the leg work. Give him two days to deal with the business end of the junk yard and drive down there."

"What we hunting?" Sam asked.

"Sounds like a regular salt n burn. Probably Bobby wanting to check up on us, knowing him.." Dean stated. "So you feel like stopping for breakfast yet? Cause I could seriously use some substance."

"Yeah, Go ahead and stop somewhere. I could use some coffee." Sam offered. "Then we can turn around and head south." _Maybe Dean forgot about-_

"So lets get back to why you were drunk. You never finished your story," Dean said brightly.

_Dammit, _Sam thought.

Fine." Sam said, "I'll tell you over breakfast. Right now I'm gonna close my eyes and wish that my head was detachable from my body." With that he promptly closed his eyes and leaned his head against the seat.

"Sam. Sam. SAMMY."

Sam jerked awake. His eyes fluttering as the too bright light hit them. He looked to the left at the drivers side of the car. It was empty. Hadn't he heard Dean calling him?

"Hey, Sunshine, over here."

Sam looked to his right, out the passenger window. There he was. Dean was bent down peering into the cracked window. "Bout time you woke up. You ready to eat?"

Sam scrubbed at his eyes. "Yeah. How long was I sleeping?"

The older man stood up from his bent position of peering in the window. "About three hours. I went ahead and found us a diner with wifi so we can get a jump start on this new hunt. I wanna have some information before we take our happy asses down there. So grab your computer and lets go." With that he started walking in the diner.

Sam looked around. They were in the parking of a small diner called Paul's. It was a square white building, a sign in the window beside the double doors sporting the words 'We have wifi' The parking lot had about three other cars in it. Well, two trucks and a car. He leaned back and grabbed his computer from the back seat before opening the door and climbing out. Once he was standing, he stretched to his full height. His back gave a satisfying crack. With the computer grasped firmly in hand he walked the couple of steps to the diner door and entered.

The smell of grease assaulted him immediately making his stomach gurgle uneasily. _Leave it to Dean to find the greasiest diner in Illinois. _He spotted Dean in a booth near the back of the diner. He glanced around as he walked to the booth, catching the waitresses eyes on accident. An older woman, maybe in her late fifties with hair dyed a fire engine red. Some how it worked on her. The tag on her smock identified her as Doris. She winked. Sam gave her a smile and sat down on the other side of his brother. He was facing Dean and Dean was facing the rest of the diner. That was ok though, because he trusted Dean to watch his back.

" I saw that Sam, getting some waitress action there. You dog."

Rolling his eyes Sam replied, "Yeah Dean. Me and her are going hot and heavy."

Dean's eyes widened and he looked at something behind Sam's back.

A woman's voice with a distinct southern accent said from behind him, "Well Honey, not that I'm not flattered, but I'm a christian woman so if you want some of this you gotta show me the ring first."

Sam twisted around in the booth. The waitress that had winked at him was standing there. She winked at him again. This time he flushed bright red. "I didn't- I mean- I. Oh my God." He paused and took a deep breath. "What I mean to say is I didn't mean any disrespect Ma'am."

The waitress laughed and said, "Lighten up Hon. I was just picking on ya." She took her pad out of her apron. "Good morning Gentlemen. May I take your order, or do you need some more time to decide?"

Dean didn't even glance at the folded plastic menu. "I'll have a stack of pancakes with bacon and eggs on the side. Scramble the eggs. And could I get coffee with that?"

"Sure Hun." The waitress turned to look at Sam. "What about you Handsome? You ready to order?"

Sam didn't bother glancing at the menu either. "I'll just have a cup of coffee."

Dean sighed. "Do you sell fruit?"

Doris smiled. "We've got a great fruit salad. Fresh made every day. We get the fruit fresh everyday from Lisa's Produce right down the road."

"Great," Dean said, "Can he get an order of that along with his coffee?"

"No problem sweet thang. I'll have your coffee here in just a jiff." Doris walked off toward the counter.

"You know Dean," Sam started, "I've been ordering my food all by myself for a while now. I think I know when I'm hungry."

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. I'll eat it if you don't."

"You? Put something healthy in your mouth? I'll believe it when I see it. "

* * *

Dean put down his fork, slumped down in the booth and sighed happily. "That was some kick ass pancakes."

He looked at his brother. Sam was still picking at his fruit salad though he had eaten most of it. It was time to find out what was bothering him. Sam tried to hide it, but Dean could tell something was off about him. _Hell, I practically raised him. I don't know why he thinks he can hide shit from me._

"Alright Sam. You've been fed and watered. So spill."

Sam sighed and pushed his mostly empty bowl away. "Alright but before I say anything, I want you to promise that you won't freak out about this." He looked at Dean expectantly.

"Ok I promise I won't freak out," Dean said promptly.

" I mean it Dean." Sam said, "I don't want you to freak out about this."

Dean looked hard at Sam. "I already said I wouldn't now quit stalling and tell me what's been up with you. Now."

"Well," Sam started looking down at his clasped hands nervously, "Lately I've been having some really weird dreams. Every time I go sleep, I have them. And it kind of seems like they're coming true."

Dean stared at his brother, eyebrows arched, but didn't say anything, so Sam continued to talk.

"I dreamed- I dreamed about Jessica burning last night. That's why I got drunk. Because I dreamed about it again. The same dream I started having two weeks before she died. You get it? Two weeks before she died. I could have saved her, Dean. But I thought it was just a dream. Hell, I guess it is just a dream now." With that he too fell silent.

Dean continued to stare, not saying a word. Sam sat there at the diner table, head bowed waiting for Dean to start talking, or hell, even yelling. He just wished he would say _something_, and stop freaking staring at him. It was really starting to creep him out.

After about two minutes Sam couldn't take it anymore. "Will you say something? Call me a freak, I don't care. Just STOP staring at me!!"

Dean jolted at Sam's raised voice. He seemed to come back to himself. He took a deep breath, carding his hand through his hair. Then he took his half full cup of coffee and gulped the rest of it down. Slamming the cup down like one would a shot glass, he finally spoke. "What the fuck Sam. Think maybe you could have told me this just a little sooner?"

"What?" Same asked, baffled. That was really the reaction he'd been expecting. The yelling yeah, but being mad because he hadn't told him? Where was the disbelief, the accusing stare? Hell he didn't really know what he'd been expecting, but this wasn't it. So he sat there and stared at his brother like an idiot.

Dean looked around. His loud voice had drawn some attention. _This is not a conversation for the general public. _"I'm going to pay the bill. Meet me at the car. If you gotta go, now's the time to do it. We're not stopping again until we need to gas up." With that, he stood up, took out his wallet and threw a five dollar bill on the table. Then he went up to the end of the counter where there was an ancient cash register. There was no one at it, so he stood until their waitress came.

"Everything alright, Hun?" she asked as she pushed some buttons on the old machine.

Dean just looked at her wearily, jerking a thumb back at Sam, "Family, you know how it is."

She nodded in sympathy and told him the total. After paying, he turned to walk out the door but was stopped by the waitress calling out. "Hey Hun?" He looked back. "Take it from someone who's been there. Family might be trying sometimes, but you hold 'em close. They're all you got. You'll miss 'em sorely when their gone." Then she turned around to start making fresh coffee.

Dean stood looking at her back for a moment, wondering about her story, who'd she'd lost to put such a sad look on her face. Had he looked like that when Sam went to college? As he walked out to the car he saw his brother waiting patiently in the passenger seat. It didn't matter how he'd looked while Sam was in college he decided, because Sam was back now and Dean would do everything in his power to keep him safe. Just like he'd done all Sam's life. Whatever was going on with his little brother, Dean would handle it, because that was what he did the best. Take care of Sam. With that, he climbed into the car and closed the door.

Turning to look at his brother he said in a patient tone, "Ok, Sam, I drive, you talk." So Sam talked. He talked about the dreams, and how they seemed different then the regular dreams. He talked about dreaming of Jessica burning, and how he had brushed it off as nightmares, the guilt he felt clear on his face. Finally, after about thirty minutes, he leaned his head against the cool window and looked at the one person that had never let him down. "I don't know what to do. I just don't know what to do, Dean."

Dean hadn't said a word while Sam talking, just listened as his brother unintentionally poured out his heart along with his words. And now his brother was looking at him with that look, the one that meant Sam wanted Dean to fix it. Sam had been looking at him like that for 22 years, and Dean wasn't about to disappoint him now.

So looking back at the road, Dean kept his voice steady as he answered his brother's silent plea, "We'll fix this, Sam. We'll fix it." Dean didn't know how they were going to fix it, or what _it _was if he were to be honest with himself, but dammit he was going to get to the bottom of it or die trying. Nothing put that look on his brother's face, not while he was around.


	2. Horses Don't Stop For Dead Men

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. Even though I want to.**

**A/N: **Alright folks, the second chapter. As always read and review. This iswriting thing is still kind of new to me so constructive criticism is welcomed, but please don't be mean. You might make me cry. Also, this is unbeta'd because...I don't know how to go about getting one? Anway, enjoy. Hopefully!

* * *

_**Chapter Two: Horses Don't Stop For Dead Men**_

_**The day before Sam's revelation: Trenton Farm, Aiken Sc 2:30pm**_

Tucker Lewis didn't like people. He tolerated them when he had to, but if he had his druthers, he'd druther not have too. Tucker liked the peace and quiet. Mostly he liked the horses. Horses, he figured, were much better then people. Simpler, one might say. He'd worked with horses since he was a boy, following after his father and learning all that could be taught. After his pa died when Tucker was 16 and they had to sell their little horse farm, he started working for the Trenton's. He'd been with them for about 30 years now, even renting a piece of land from them, right on the edge of the farm. He'd started with Trenton Sr, and when the Sr died, he stayed on when Trenton Jr took over. Now he guessed that he'd be working for Trenton III. Both Trenton Sr and Trenton Jr were good folk, Tucker had always thought. Strong men, who didn't back away from a hard days labor. Heck, he couldn't count how many times he'd worked along side of them, mucking out stalls or whatever else needed to be done. Tucker wasn't so sure about Michael though. He didn't seem to enjoy the work as much as his father and grandfather had, didn't like getting his hands dirty.

So Tucker didn't know what was gonna happen now that Trent, as people called George Trenton Jr, was dead. He almost couldn't believe that he was actually dead, if he were to be honest with himself. Now, Tuck wasn't in the 'know', but just like most places Trenton Farms had it's gossip mill and right now it sure was milling. When he came into work yesterday morning, at five he did what he usually did, and til about ten everything was normal. He even waved at Mrs. Trenton when she rode by after coming back from the flea market in Springfield. Then about 45 minutes later, as he was looking over the fence for holes, he spotted a police car coming up the long winding drive. Wasn't his business though, so he didn't think long on it. Forgot about even, until Mark, one of the construction workers that were working on a new barn, came over and asked what he thought about the whole situation. What situation? Seemed like Trent went and hanged himself. Apparently Mrs. Trenton found him swinging from the ceiling in their bedroom. No note or nothing.

It didn't set right with Tuck for some reason, Mr. Trent hanging himself. He couldn't figure out why. They wasn't best friends or anything but they'd worked together enough over the years for Tuck to get a feel for the man. Hell, he'd known him since he was a teenager. If there was one person he'd thought never to go that way, it was Trent. Especially since there didn't seem to be anything wrong. They were doing well financially. He'd just giving Tuck a raise. In fact, the Trenton's were expanding their house to make room for Michael and his new wife, Tammy, who was expecting. They were even putting in one of those in ground pools. No, Tuck didn't think that it had anything to do with finances. But what did he know? H got along better with horses then people. _Enough of this _Tuck thought, _Mr. Trent might be dead, but the horses still gotta taken care of. _With that thought, Tuck put the whole situation out of his head and got back to work.

_**Later that night around 7:00pm:**_

Mark Long was finished for the day, thank God. He put in a full 12 hours and all he wanted to do was go home and eat dinner with his wife. But first, he wanted to go check on Tuck._ Antisocial bastard, _Mark thought with fondness. Tuck didn't really like to talk to people, didn't if he could avoid it. But for some reason Mark liked the older man. Reminded him some of his father he supposed. When Mark had come and told him about Mr. Trenton the other day, he could tell it upset the man, even if he tried to hide it. So Mark was just gonna swing by, all casual like, and tell Tuck that Lilly demanded he come to dinner tomorrow night. Tuck would say yes, of course, because Tuck always had a soft spot for woman. Lilly wouldn't care, Mark knew. So as he walked up to Tuck's door and knocked Mark had a plan in his head.

"Yo Tuck, open up." he said loudly as he knocked. Nothing. Mark sighed as he waited a few moments before knocking again. "You're truck's out here, so I know you're in there." Again, all was silent within the house. Starting to get a little worried, Mark called out again, "Tuck? If you don't answer the door in 10 seconds, I'm coming in." Silence. "Fine then you old bastard, here I come." Mark muttered beneath his breath. Trying the door knob, he found it unlocked.

Then stood there in shock after he pushed the door open, because swinging from the exposed beams of his ceiling, was the bloated face of Tucker Lewis.

_**The next morning, Mark Long's house:**_

Mark waited until his wife got in the shower before making the call. But as soon as he heard the water running, he got his cellphone and dialed a number he swore he wouldn't dial again. When a gruff voiced answered Mark took a deep breathe, "Bobby, It's Mark Long. I need your help."

_**Present time with Sam and Dean:**_

"Dean. Stop. Looking. At. Me.", Sam said, exasperated as his brother snuck yet another 'stealthy' glance at him. "I thought you said you were ok with everything."

"I am ok with everything, but jeez Sam, give a guy a couple hours to get used to things, huh?", the older man asked , taking the opportunity to sneak another glance. He didn't know why he needed to keep checking on Sam when he was sitting a foot away, but he did it anyway. _Big brother's prerogative, dammit._

"We've been in the car for almost ten hours," Sam pointed out. "Therefore I hereby declare that you've had your couple hours to get used to it."

"Whatever, Bitch, it's not every day that you find out that your brothers a psychic girl." Dean stated.

"I'm not psychic, Jerk. I just..Hey! I'm not a girl either, you ass!"

Dean chuckled as he slowed down for a red light, "Almost had you there Sammy."

"Whatever," the younger man muttered. "You ever been here? Aiken, I mean, not South Carolina."

"Nah, but Bobby said it was horse county. Which would explain all the freaky horse statues, I guess," Dean said looking at said statues which were was scattered around various shops. "We gotta check out a place called Trenton Farm. Two hangings in less then a week."

"How'd Bobby get involved in this, I wonder?" Sam asked.

"Said it was an old hunting buddy of his, only he doesn't hunt anymore. Gave it up for marriage and all that shit."

"Nice, Dean."

"What?" Dean asked confused.

"Nothing, we gonna get a hotel or what? I'm more then ready to get out of this car." Sam said, trying to stretch out his cramped legs as much as possible. Which was almost impossible considering the length of his legs.

"Yeah, yeah. I was just taking a look around. I see a Knights Inn. Looks ram shackled enough to be cheap. Actually kinda looks like it's in a hole. Where the hell is the entrance.?" Dean said, craning his neck to look around."

Sam pointed toward a medium sized blue and white sign that sported the words; Knight's Inn – Entrance. "There you go genius."

Taking the time to flip his brother off before turning into the entrance, Dean pulled under the cover of the hotels front door. "Be right back." With that he got out of the car and went into the hotel to book a room.

Sam leaned his head back against the seat, exhausted. It had been a helluva day, starting off with a hangover his head still hurt from. Telling Dean about his dreams, well, he didn't know how he felt about that yet. On one hand he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Just knowing that Dean knew, it made him feel better for some reason. Made him feel like he wasn't alone in this. Made him think that maybe Dean could fix it. On the other hand, He knew that was crazy. How was Dean supposed to fix it? What was the point in telling him? Wasn't he just dragging Dean down with him? Sam closed his eyes. He didn't want to be awake anymore.

_**Bang!! Bang!!**_

Sam's eyes shot open at the noise, the rolled as he realized it had only been Dean being an asshole and banging on the top of the car. Opening the door, Dean slid in. "We're in 112, around back. Dude, that woman in there was hot! I think I'm gonna like it here." With that he slid started the car and drove around the building. The parking lot had only a few cars in it, So they were able to park right in front of their room, which Dean, Sam knew liked, because he could keep an eye on his precious car.

After getting their stuff out of the car, Dean walked up to the their home for the next couple of days and slid the key into the slot. Surprisingly, it clicked on the first try and Dean pushed the door open. It looked...just like every other hotel they'd stayed in over the years. Nothing special. Sam pushed by Dean, going to the furthermost bed from the door. Dropping his duffel at the foot of his bed, he toed off his shoes. Looking at his brother, he said, "Wake me up in two hours." With that, he dropped to the bed and proceeded to go to sleep before his head hit the pillow.

"Okay..." Dean said, looking at his soundly sleeping little brother. It was weird of Sam to take a nap. Hell, these days Dean was happy when Sam managed to sleep for three hours uninterrupted a night. He knew Sam had nightmares, couldn't really hide that from someone you live with. But the bomb Sam dropped today...What was he supposed to do with that?

Deciding that the first thing he needed to do was wash off the dust from the road, he gathered his stuff to take a shower, leaving the door cracked open in-case, well just in-case. They'd start this hunt tomorrow. Tonight he was gonna let Sammy sleep as long as he could without the nightmares, and when they started, he'd deal with that too.

**A/N(2): **Hope y'all enjoyed it. Next chapter the boys get more into the hunt and Sam dreams a weird dream. See ya then.


End file.
